The place waned beyond the contextual,
The knowledge unsaid by person in prayer
“I am not meant to feel” yet all do swear
By a sentiment undeserving. All
Dissatisfactions leave distraught, maul
The romantic, hatred of the primal
Taught wrong yet right, compassion’s unending air.
I feel a conviction, which I partake

Sealing fate in my own troubling hate
Thoughts given to the truly natural
“I am not meant to feel” yet I do want
To hear the call of the romantics great,
Reject the primal thought. Tasteful
Classics brought to a nonsense dying pant
              As wrong an act as an inescapable conviction taught